


Stupid Little Cigs

by NeverComingHome



Category: The Simpsons
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 10:13:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverComingHome/pseuds/NeverComingHome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How bad things can lead to great things.</p>
<p>Written for a set of prompts for an LJ Battle</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid Little Cigs

**Experiment**

It doesn't always have to mean something. Milhouse holds his glasses up to the light, checking for any smears and Bart kisses him like he's been thinking about it for more than two minutes because really what did he expect? Fireworks as their lips met like kismet while everyone in the park stopped what they were doing to start a slow clap that built into applause while the perfect song played in the background?

Come on, they're sixteen.

Bart had wanted a tattoo and Milhouse had a fake id he'd stolen so he could vote in a few months and the guy had side eyed him as he called Bart "son" and tried not to faint with disbelief when, with a roll of the eyes, Bart had been motioned into the seat. But to say that Bart kissed him because he'd done that for him would be like saying he's been wanting to kiss him since the first day they met, because Milhouse always does stuff for Bart and when they read him his sins he'll wonder if maybe the best moments in his life were the worst.

The ones where he's sitting on a park bench surrounded by people he's known his entire life, a walk home away from getting grounded, and Bart Simpson decides he wants to kiss him before he hops on his skateboard and calls Milhouse a square for not getting one too.

_Whatever_ , he thinks, and decides to get contacts.

 

**Teenagers**

"I can't with you, anymore man." Bart shakes his head, arms dangling off bent knees while Milhouse takes off his graduation gown, "Growing up is so mainstream."

"And being an immature jackass all the time is so fourth grade."

He bounces off his friend's bed so he's in front of him, a smile on his face. He makes to flick the other's shirt collar, but Milhouse blocks it like an adult snatching the candy jar from under the nose of a sugar crazed kid. The smile falls and Bart makes the same move, is rebuffed again, the hand that bats his own away maybe a little rougher about it than the first time.

"Could you just say you're happy for me, once?"

Bart snorts, shaking his head and picking his jacket up off the floor, "You take things way too seriously, bro. See ya."

 

**Smoking**

He smells like smoke, like whiskey and arson. Bart just wants to fix his hair and buy him a pair of glasses that make his face look small and his grin less jaded. He swears in Italian, wields the guitar like a sword and he's only positive it's him when he inelegantly tosses his keys into the air on the way to the bathroom and they land in his pocket without him noticing, forcing him to twist around and around in a circle like a dog trying to find its tail. It's almost adorable really so Bart shoves him into the wall to watch his face turn red.

"Simpson," he says, rolling his eyes.

"Van Houten." Bart mimics and crosses his arms, "You should really cover up the nerd when you're in public, nobody wants to see that."

"So why'd you stay the whole set, then?"

He tells him.

They go together like a trainwreck. Bart has just started working construction so his hands are rough and Milhouse grew up to be skinny and sarcastic, but still the kid who looked up gullible in the dictionary and called Bart to say it totally was there, maybe because it was the newest edition. Nobody really changes after all, they just focus on qualities that were always there but never got a chance to shine.

His futon smells like cigarettes too and Bart thinks he'll always associate Marlboros with creaking frames, a hand between his legs and a moan in the dark, begging him to keep going.  _I can deal with that_ , he thinks and stretches his arms, putting on his shorts and walking to where he thinks the bathroom is. As he approaches it though he hears voices, one familiar one not.

"I don't know..."

"I do. Unless you're seeing someone else," the other man's tone changes as he says it, "are you?"

In the eight seconds it takes for him to say yes Bart walks away from the door.

 

**Temptation**

There's a good chance it'd be a waste of his time. For being the dullest of professions there's a ridiculous amount of competition in real estate and if the investors are wrong about the pull of the area it could wind up as just another ghost town and Milhouse really doesn't like worrying about where he's going to sleep at night; not to mention the fact that his dad just found a job and he'd like to see if he actually keeps it this time around. Decision made he listens to Pam list the companies they'd be dealing with, already intending to turn her down.

"Leverage only has five on the schedule, but if they get the commission they'll hire more and," she stops, voice muffling for a second, "never mind S-i-m-p-s-o-n, Bart. Yeah okay so they've got five plus an electrician. What do you say-"

He opens a folder on his computer. An eight year old scrunched down, holding his knees with broken glasses on his face and a bloody nose while a spiky haired kid rears back a slime filled balloon in wait of a schoolyard bully.

"-tempting, right?"

He lets out a breath, sinking lower in his chair, "You have no idea."

 

**Husbands**

Sometimes people ask when it "got serious", as if they were biding their time until that one moment that brought it all together like water circling down a drain.

Milhouse battles the grill with a wooden spatula, glasses slipping down his nose because Bart hid his contacts (again) and getting a patty to the forehead for his trouble.

"Make sense? Them?" Lisa giggles as Bart snaps a picture and Milhouse's eyebrows come together because unlike for his husband it doesn't get funnier each time it happens, "I'll keep you posted."

 


End file.
